


Eight hours, thirteen minutes.

by LouiseC



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouiseC/pseuds/LouiseC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s been strong for the last few hours and now he’s barely holding it together. He doesn’t know how much more he can keep it in. So he calls the one person he knows who's never afraid to say exactly what he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight hours, thirteen minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after the season 2 final.
> 
> Can be preslash or slash, I'm not sure sometimes with these two... Just their usual general easiness with one another.

The water is eerily still as he stands there, leaning on the railing, his finger hovering over the call button. His phone’s safe but Danny’s cell is unsecured and even if it wasn’t, he doesn’t know where he’d even begin. He’s been strong for the last few hours and now he’s barely holding it together. He doesn’t know how much more he can keep it in. So he calls the one person he knows who's never afraid to say exactly what he thinks.

With a deep breath, he dials.  

“You’ve reached Detective Danny Williams…”   

Crap. Voicemail. That’s even worse, what the hell does he say that won’t result in Danny arguing his way onto the first flight out of Hawaii.  beep

"Hey, Danno. It's me. Steve. Of course you know it's me, nobody else calls you Danno except for Grace. I’m just checking in, because, y’know, you were a little sensitive about my last trip. And you didn’t return my earlier voice mail. I’m safe. Okay? Don’t worry. I'm... I...” His voice catches, he knows Danny will notice that.

“Danno I need you to call me back when you get this, okay? I need you to tell me, I need to know something. Just... Fuck, Danny, tell me that you saw him. That you actually saw his body, that you saw my father dead on the floor in my house, in autopsy, anything. Because I can't trust anyone else anymore and I don't know what to believe. I need to know it wasn’t all a lie.”

And it feels like he’s going through the five stages of grief all over again only it’s all out of order. Although he supposes he has had a twenty year head start on the acceptance part.  
Steve thumps the rickety railing in frustration and it cracks under his fist. He knows Danny will have heard it. Will hear it. If he ever listens to his voicemails.

“Shit. Don't... Don't freak out, I'm sorry. Just call me okay? Please? Okay. I’m hanging up now." He ends the call and runs his fingers over the splintered wood in front of him. It’s pretty much his life, now. Cracked and not at all sturdy.

He startles when his phone rings, loud and cutting through the night. "McGarrett"  
"Babe?"   

He can’t make his voice work. He opens his mouth but all he can make is a strangled sound.   

“Okay, you called,” Danny’s voice comes over the line, clear and he can imagine the hand movements that will accompany the impending rant. Only Danny’s voice is softer than he’d expect. “And can I just say how very much I appreciate it, after last time this is a big improvement. It’s been less than a day and I know you’re alive. But I gotta tell you, phones work better when both parties do the talking. Unless you want to video call, but I haven’t done my hair yet.”  

  
“Danny.” His voice cracks again.  

  
“There you go, I know you could. Steve, what’s happened?”  

  
“I can’t. Not on an unsecured line.”  

“Is the phone in the box at the back of your hall closet safe?”  

“Yes, the… What the hell, Danny? You went through my closets?”  

“I was looking for mothballs. That’s not the point. Is this phone secure?” 

 “Yes.”  

“Good. Okay. And you haven’t used the duress word. I’m assuming you remember the duress word.”  

Despite everything, he can’t help but chuckle, ever so slightly, remembering the day they (Danny) decided they needed duress words. He’d joked that Danny used all the words in the English language so frequently he’d use any duress word by accident at least once a week. And he knows that calling Danny was the right thing to do. He mightn’t be Special Ops but he understands loss and being betrayed by the ones that are the closest to you. The ones you grew up, or didn’t, trusting with your everything.

“’Pineapples’ is not a duress word, Danny.”

“It is. Pizzas in this state scream it every time one of you lot come near them. But don’t think you can distract me. Talk. Tell me everything. Why do you need so badly to know that I saw your Dad's body? Which I did, okay? I did and no matter what you say, I am glad that you didn't have to." Danny sighs in defeat. "You shouldn't have to see that. I promise you, Steve, I will work in Kamekona’s shrimp truck before I let you see the crime scene photos. You saw more than enough when you broke into your… his… house. And went stealth CSI on an active crime scene. You went to his funeral. A military funeral.”

"Funerals can be faked," for all that he had been letting Danny's voice wash over him, he had actually been following the content.

"What? Who fakes a funeral? You aren't making any sense, Steve."

“I know. Just… Don’t let Grace leave the island, okay? We’ve got to fight Rachel. Don’t let her keep taking Gracie away from you. She needs you. She can’t grow up without you. It’s not fair to her to grow up without…” His voice cracks again.

“Steve, what’s this about, really?”

“Family. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I know Shelburne.”

"You mean who know who it is?"

"No. I know her, Danny. I've known her my whole life. Danny, it's my mom."

"What? But she's..."

"She's not."

"You've got the case file."

"An Accident report. Only it wasn't an accident and it turns out, she wasn't ever dead."

"Are you... It seems stupid to ask how you are but there's no other way to put it."

"I'm... Angry. Confused. Hurt. Except, that the other part of me, the part who is a soldier not a son, understands. Tactically."

“She told you why she did it? Faked her death I assume?”

Steve shakes his head before he remembers that Danny can’t see him. “No. I mean, some. Mostly excuses and apologies neither of which are what I want right now.”

“No.” Danny waits a beat. “So, any idea when you’re coming home?”

“We’re coming in on a secure flight some time tomorrow.”

“We? Secure?” Danny asks, even though he knows why.

“Teeing it up with Wit Sec. Doris insists.”

Danny wonders about the use of the woman's first name but decides now isn't the time. “Look at you, Babe,” he says instead with gusto, “Waiting for backup for once, because your mommy says to.”

“Danny,” Steve half growls and tries to hide the inappropriate laugh in his voice.

“Too soon?”

“Just a little, yeah.”

“Tomorrow, then,” he promises.

“Yeah. I’ll call before we take off so you know when to expect us. It takes about 8 hours.”

“And thirteen minutes."

"And thirteen minutes?"

"I, uh, maybe looked it up?”

“Grace help you google it?”

“Shut up.”

“I gotta go, I guess. Deal with this some more and get things ready to leave. I’ll call, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

They end the call, and Steve knows that he means it. That no matter who else come and goes, no matter who else tries to hide things from him, Danny is transparent and reliable and he has a feeling that he’s really going to need that in the weeks to come.


End file.
